


Yearning

by PuddingMcMuffin



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, also the tiniest bit of tentacles, for some reason it gets a little emotional at the end?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-17 13:10:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11275962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuddingMcMuffin/pseuds/PuddingMcMuffin
Summary: Something I wrote last year in about two hours that I finally decided "what the hell, let's post it here".Based off of a thing my friend wrote that I posted to myNSFW tumblr.¯\_(ツ)_/¯





	Yearning

**Author's Note:**

> Something I wrote last year in about two hours that I finally decided "what the hell, let's post it here".
> 
> Based off of a thing my friend wrote that I posted to my [NSFW tumblr.](http://negotiatethis.tumblr.com/post/150480288041/so-recently-my-friend-and-i-were-talking-about-the)
> 
> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Dawur's sexual frustrations were spiraling desperately out of hand. If he hadn't been willing to admit that before, there was no way he could lie about it now.

All that had happened was that the Scientist had dropped something, and then bent to pick it up. That was it: a simple action that anyone would have done if they were in the same situation.

And yet that action had lit a fire inside of him.

All he had needed was one glance of her bent over to get his imagination going: Him behind her, pushing her head to the floor while he kept her ass in the air, caressing her already wet folds through the fabric of her leggings before pulling them down and shoving into her hot, wet walls with his hard cock. Not giving her any time to adjust before he began thrusting at a rough pace, making her moan loudly and scramble to find anything to hold onto for purchase. It wouldn't take long after that for one of his hands to reach underneath her and caress one of her breasts, the breast he had clearly seen when she had reached for what she had dropped, the tunic that always hid much of her form falling forward and allowing him to see its outline through the tight-fitting shirt she wore. It would fit perfectly into his hand.

She would moan again, and this time would grab for his other hand, trying to pull at it while she looked back at him, a pleading look in her eyes. He would know what she wanted, for the other to get equal treatment. And who was he to deny her? As he allowed his hand to be directed, he would lean over her, and slowly push down on her back. She would be completely trapped; between his penis that thrust in and out, the hands that gripped and fondled her breasts, and now his body completely overtaking her, there would be nothing for her to do but take it.

One of her hands reached back again, this time for his face, awkwardly hitting his mouth a few times before she was able to hold his cheek. He nuzzled into her hand, giving it a few licks before lightly nipping it. She moaned again, and with some force pulled his face closer. His red eyes met her green ones, and she whispered to him

“More.”

He smiled. He knew she would have been able to handle it, and his thrusting began anew, with even more vigor and-

_There are others in the room._

The scarab's voice rudely interrupted the fantasy, and Dawur was brought back into reality: the Scientist, not underneath him, standing at her workstation with a few technicians surrounding her while they worked at the other consoles, and him, standing at the edge of the room, the only thing keeping his thoughts a secret being his scarab armor, not letting anyone see how aroused he was. He looked away and headed for the door just as he saw the Scientist begin to turn her head, feeling her eyes on him as he tried to look as though he was casually leaving the room.

_Suggestion: Continue in private quarters._

Dawur didn't argue with the scarab, and after a few minutes of patrolling and making sure no one was paying attention to him, Dawur slipped away to his room.

He immediately stumbled over to the bed, the armor at his crotch snapping open and freeing his cock, hard and already dripping precum. He wasted no time gripping himself and beginning to rub furiously with his hand, losing himself in the fantasy once more.

She was once more beneath him, moaning as he took her hard and fast, this time grabbing at his pillow and burying her face into it, muffling her cries. That wouldn't do, he thought. He slowed down, his reduced pace making her look back at him questioningly. That was when he ripped the pillow from her arms and threw it across the room. He gave her no time to respond before he had a tight grip on her throat, not enough to hurt her, but enough to make her still. He leaned down, stopping completely in his thrusting and pressing his face against the back of her head.

“Say my name,” he whispered, tasting the sweat that trickled into his mouth.

“Dawur,” she whispered. Her obedience was rewarded with a thrust of his hips, and she groaned, gripping at the hand at her throat.

“Again,” he demanded.

“Dawur,” she answered, louder this time. Another sign of obedience, another reward of his penis slamming deep into her cunt.

“Keep repeating it until I tell you to stop,” he said, finally releasing her throat in favor of grabbing her wrist and pinning it to the top of the bed as he began to thrust again.

She complied with his order, repeating his name like a mantra while she thrust her own hips back to meet his, trying to take his dick even further inside of her.

She wasn't like anyone else that had shared his bed; she would be able to last a good long time before she came, able to match up with his stamina. Despite the quiet and sometimes meek nature she displayed, he knew there was more to her than that, that there was a part of her she kept hidden. But he would be able to bring it out, and that was something he would keep all for himself.

She was near screaming now, still continuing to chant his name as his thrusts became faster. It wouldn't be much longer for either of them now. His free hand slipped beneath her, two fingers stroking at her clit.

That was what tipped her over, and she stopped calling his name to let out an impassioned shout, her hand gripping the sheets so tightly that her knuckles went a pale shade of blue.

Her already tight walls closed in on him, squeezing him even more, and he was unable to keep himself grounded any longer, joining her in orgasm with a deep shout of his own. A rush of fluid came out, filling her and spilling out where they were connected, the sheer amount of cum being far too much to fit inside her.

He closed his eyes, breathing deeply, exhausted, his arm shaking as he held himself up. He felt tempted to drop down onto her, to pin her in between himself and the mattress. She would likely be annoyed, and try to push him off, and when that wouldn't work, hit him until he released her. Not that he would, though. He would wait until she tired out, muttering curses at him after she stopped trying to get him off of her, and then roll over to the side, where he would pull her over and hold her, and then they would both eventually drift off. That thought in mind, he opened his eyes and looked beneath him.

But there was no one on the bed with him. His hand gripped the sheets at the top of his bed, and he leaned over a mess of his own cum. His other hand gripped his dick, and when he looked down he saw that the scarab had released its tendrils which had wrapped around his length. The Scientist was not here; she was still back in her lab.

Dawur groaned and leaned back, beginning the task of cleaning his now filthy bed.

_Host Dawur, this scarab suggests finding a temporary partner among the Reach fleet. To continue in this manner is wasteful, and only leaves you in an emotional state._

“I want _her_ ,” Dawur hissed to his scarab, gathering his sheets as he looked for where his pillow had gone. Oh. He actually had thrown it across the room.

_Then approach her with these intentions._

“I can't.”

Dawur could feel the scarab's irritation, and their voice quickly snapped out a _why not?_

Dawur stopped, thinking about the question. Although it was usually others who came to him looking for sexual favors, it wasn't as though he hadn't ever approached anyone he found attractive and asked for the same thing. So why couldn't he do the same for the Scientist?

The floodgates of his mind opened, and all he could do was think of past encounters: Of when they first met, and how he was impressed by her wit. Of how intrigued he was by her clear hatred of the Ambassador, and how he had made something of a bond with her over that. Of those times he was sure she had been staring at him, only to quickly glance away when he looked over to her. Of earlier even, when she had bent down to pick up what she had dropped. He hadn't been paying much attention to her face, but looking back on it he wasn't entirely sure if she had been focusing on what she was doing or if she had been looking at him.

He thought back to the fantasies he had about her, and found himself unsure if that was what she was really like. If she would have actually accepted him and his advances in such a way, or if that was just someone he had made up to satisfy a need. If the way he imagined her was only that: a fantasy he was imposing on her.

“I can't,” he repeated, hitting a fist against his forehead.

The scarab didn't reply.


End file.
